Nick Clegg hosted his own phone-in on the radio on Thursday. Or rather, he didn't. You couldn't distinguish it from any other political chatshow. Nick Ferrari, the moderator on LBC, the London commercial station, said the event was "historic".

Er, as historic as Marconi's first broadcast? Or Churchill's in wartime? Or Orson Welles's notorious War of the Worlds? I'd say it was one of the least historic things that happened on Thursday, and I include the shock news that Naomi Watts wore a backless gown to an awards ceremony.

Clare from Park Royal rang. The Lib Dem leader said he was pleased to be there, in a voice so flat he might have used it in a Spanish Inquisition dungeon. Clare wanted to ask about "unfair" child benefit payments. She got the stock Lib Dem answer.

Tougher questions came from John, in Surrey. He claimed to be a former Lib Dem councillor who had torn up his membership card in disgust. If I'd been Nick Clegg, I'd have said, "John, old fruit, you sound exactly as if you're reading from a Labour party handout. Are you?" But you can't be rude on these occasions, and he wasn't.

But if John disliked Mr Clegg he was as nothing compared to the hatred felt by someone unknown. Harry from Sheffield asked if he had ever worn a "onesie". Clegg revealed that he had recently been sent a "big green onesie", but it was still in its wrapper. We pondered what depths of loathing would cause anyone to send someone such a garment. And wouldn't it be great if he wore it in the Commons? He'd look like a giant courgette.

Mr Clegg's performance, however, was deft and masterful compared with that minutes later of the cabinet secretary, Sir Jeremy Heywood, at a select committee. If it had been a call-in, Ask Sir Jeremy, it would have been booed off air. He was talking about his "investigation" into the Andrew Mitchell affair, which preceded the chief whip's resignation. Adopting the George Entwistle defence, Sir Jeremy appeared to have known very little and asked even less. He was only following orders. His catchphrase was, "I report to the prime minister", which in his view covered every eventuality.

What the MPs wanted to know was why, having seen that the police report bore scant resemblance to the CCTV images, he took the matter no further. Not his job, guv. It is now fashionable for select committee MPs to sound incredulous when they have found a victim, and soon Sir Jeremy was covered top to toe in incredulity, like a onesie.

The chairman, Bernard Jenkin, said he had been asked to get to the bottom of the case, he had failed to get to the bottom of the case, and as a result of his failure to get to the bottom of the case, the government lost its chief whip. The key account had been in Downing Street the day after the incident, yet he hadn't even consulted it!

Finally he thanked Sir Jeremy warmly and with a wan smile, the panjandrum left. Shooting victims sometimes say that you don't feel the pain at first; you only realise what's happened when you see the blood gushing. He'll feel the pain soon enough.